engaged to aid his scheme."

De Lacy, who was handling his drawn dagger, suddenly sent it deep into
the table beside him.

"We seem to have been a pair of fools, Stafford!" he exclaimed. "The
very morning after the Countess disappeared I found those two villains
together at the Abbey yet suspected them not at all." He drew out the
dagger, then plunged it in again. "Well, so be it. I shall wait until
the King has heard your story. Then I go North--with his permission,
if may be; without it if I must."

"It will be a triple pleasure," said the Duke, "to revenge myself on
Darby and do some service to the Countess and to you."

"With your permission, my lord," Ratcliffe observed, "Kendale will take
down your statement and you may sign it. . . His Majesty will not
return till vespers."

The Duke laughed shortly. "Ere which time I shall be sped, you mean.
Well, summon Kendale, and that promptly, for methinks yon scaffold is
about ready for its office."

Word for word the King's secretary reduced the narrative.

"Read it," the Duke commanded when it was done. . . "Is that
sufficiently definite and accurate? . . . Then let me sign it."

With a labored flourish he attached his name and sealed it with his
ring. Ratcliffe and Kendale duly attested it; and sealing it again
over the outside edge he handed it to De Lacy:

"When Darby stands against you," he said, "strike one blow for the dead
Buckingham. . . Nay, man, take it not so to heart; it is a hazard we
all must play some time. And who knows, forsooth, but that in the cast
I win a fairer land than this I leave behind?"

"Aye, perchance it is we who lose," said Ratcliffe thoughtfully.

"God grant it be so," De Lacy added.

"Amen!" the Duke rejoined. "For then some day you, too, shall win."

From below came the measured tramp of men; and though the window was
closed, the murmurings and mutterings of the crowd grow noticeably
louder. The pounding of hammers had ceased and in its place were the
gruff commands as the soldiers forced the rabble back from the
scaffold; followed presently by the ring of grounded halberds.

The Duke of Buckingham walked to the window and opening the casement
looked for a moment into the courtyard. Then as the tread of the guard
sounded on the stairs, he turned away and, shaking the dust from his
cloak, flung it about his shoulders.

"Lead on, my man, I am ready," he said indifferently, as Raynor Royk,
death warrant in h